


Late Morning

by timehopper



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 05:42:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13140270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timehopper/pseuds/timehopper
Summary: They don't get to spend a lot of time together off-base, so when they do, McCree and Hanzo make sure to make the most of it.





	Late Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [nevaryadl](https://nevaryadl.tumblr.com/) for the Target Practice Secret Santa exchange. Merry Christmas!

Last night, for the first time in weeks, they fell asleep together, wrapped up in each other's arms.

They don't spend a lot of time away from Overwatch, even now that they're older, so every time they're able to take time off they take it together and spend it at home. Real home, not a shared dorm room at a Watchpoint. Home with a kitchen and a big, soft bed, with tacky plaid throw blankets and a cow hide rug, with low tables and a kotatsu, with bamboo stalks and orchids and tiny cacti on the windowsill.

The sun peeks in between the slits in the blinds and McCree wakes up, the beams hitting him right in the eyelids. He opens his eyes and cranes his neck to see what time it is on the clock, careful not to move too much lest he wake the man sleeping deeply beside him. It's just after ten - they've slept in. McCree wonders if maybe he should wake his husband after all, but thinks better of it. Though he will deny it to his dying day, nobody loves to sleep in more than Hanzo Shimada-McCree.

It seems his effort is in vain, however, and Hanzo stirs next to him anyway. He rolls over in bed and lifts his arms out from under the covers to wrap McCree up in them and pull him close.

“Good morning to you too,” McCree says softly. Hanzo just groans and buries his face in his husband’s chest.

“What time is it?” he asks, voice muffled.

“It's hi--”

“Jesse.”

“--iiigh time we got up?”

“ _Jesse.”_

McCree laughs and ruffles Hanzo's hair affectionately, reveling in the pout he gets for his efforts. “Sorry, hon. You know I can't help myself.” He leans down to kiss Hanzo's forehead, hoping it'll soften the blow of the time. “It's almost ten-thirty.”

Predictably, Hanzo groans. “We overslept.”

“Yeah, well…” The hand that had been in Hanzo's hair moves to tilt his chin up. “This is the first time we've been home in weeks. I think we can afford at least one lazy day.”

“Hm.” Hanzo seems to consider this, and as he does one hand slips back under the sheets and brushes along McCree's side. He shivers in the wake of those fingertips until they settle at his hip, toying with the waistband of his sleep sweats. Hanzo looks at him from under his lashes and smiles the devil's smile. “Not too lazy, I hope.”

Hanzo's fingers slip below his waistband. McCree leans over, and with a smile just as devious, whispers, “Honey, you read my mind.”  
  


\-----

 

It's almost noon by the time they really decide to get out of bed.

Hanzo lies on his back, breathless and beaming, and turns his gaze to McCree. “Shower,” he says, and his husband laughs.

“Me first, or you?” he asks, and Hanzo just chuckles. With some effort, he manages to force himself upright and out of bed, and once he stands he stretches out, arms above his head. His back pops and he sighs in relief.

“You're gettin’ old,” McCree jokes. “Back crackin’ like that.”

Hanzo turns and grins smugly. “At least there is no grey in my hair.”

“That's ‘cause you shave it. Remember what it looked like when we met?”

Hanzo chuckles and scratches at his temples, where some of his grey hairs are starting to grow back. “I do.”

McCree shuffles to the edge of the bed to wrap his arms around his husband's midsection and nuzzle into his abs - a little softer with age, but still nicer than they have any right to be. “Kinda miss it, actually. Made you look all sophisticated. Regal. Like an actual dragon.”

Laughing, Hanzo lightly smacks the top of McCree's head. “Ridiculous.”

“Naw, I mean it! ‘Course I love the shaved sides, and the piercings - God almighty do I love them piercings - but I miss the salt’n’pepper--”

He suddenly cuts himself off to blow a raspberry on Hanzo's stomach, and the archer yelps and jumps back, smacking the top of Jesse's head as he goes. He's laughing, though, and it makes Jesse laugh too. Hanzo shoots him one last smirk over his shoulder before he walks to the bathroom, and that just about gets McCree to follow him. “You sure you don't want me to join you?”

“No,” Hanzo says, more a warning than a refusal. “If you do, we are going to end up going again, and I am not sure I will be able to stand after.”

“Aw, c’mon.” McCree grins and crosses his arms over his chest. “You've got more stamina than anyone I know, Han. You tellin’ me you can't handle it?”

Years ago, the taunt might have worked. Hanzo does not like to turn down a challenge. But years into their relationship, he's learned when to give in and when to hold his ground against McCree's goading. “You are right. I am getting old,” he says with a playful smile, and then closes the door to the bathroom.

“Oof! You wound me, honey. Got me right where it hurts!” He puts a hand over his chest for emphasis, more out of habit than anything else, since he knows Hanzo can't see it behind the bathroom door. “Struck me right--”

“At the heart!” Hanzo calls through the door, and McCree can just make out the sound of his low chuckle against the sound of the shower starting.

 

\------

 

Long lie-ins aren't the only thing Hanzo Shimada-McCree likes to indulge in. His shower is long enough that McCree is almost finished making half their breakfast by the time he gets out.

He comes down the stairs in a pair of sweats, towel around his bare shoulders and hair still damp. He walks up to the counter and presses himself against McCree's back. Arms wrap around his middle, and Hanzo sighs happily. McCree can feel the smile against his skin as Hanzo nuzzles in between his shoulder blades, can feel the sigh of contentment tickle his back. “You should have waited for me to help you,” he chides, but it's clear he's really quite pleased. “What can I do?”

McCree laughs. He flips the bacon in the pan and says, “Was hoping you could make some of your hotcakes, if you don't mind.”

A small, contented hum. “Of course, my love.” He pulls away slowly with one last kiss to the back of McCree's neck (he has to stand on his toes to reach the spot he knows his husband likes best) and moves through the kitchen, pulling out bowls and ingredients as he goes. The swoop in McCree's chest doesn't just come from affection this time; he may be the better cook between the two of them, but he's never had hotcakes as delicious and fluffy as Hanzo's, no matter where he's gone or what recipe he's tried.

He takes the bacon off the heat and sets it aside to make room for Hanzo at the stove. While the other man cooks, McCree sets to work setting their small table, laying it out with jams and syrups and spreads and seasonings. He catches Hanzo watching him over his shoulder. “You would think we were having a feast,” he teases.

“With how much you eat we might as well be,” McCree teases right back, and that earns him a damp towel to the face and one of the sweetest laughs he's ever heard. Worth it.

Hanzo flips some of the hotcakes. McCree cracks some eggs into another pan and fries them, shoulder to shoulder with his husband. Hanzo smiles and turns his head to lean in for a kiss, and McCree happily obliges him. Twice. Three times. Four. He has to stop himself from continuing, because he knows if they keep up at this pace they're going to burn their breakfast. So, reluctantly, he pulls away, smiling sheepishly as he goes. He catches Hanzo's smirk a split second too late, though, and yelps when he feels a hand on his ass.

“Thought you said you didn't want to go again?” 

Hanzo laughs and shakes his head. “I did. And I have not changed my mind. 

“You sure? ‘Cause the way you're goin’ I might just end up changing mine. 

Hanzo chuckles and presses a quick kiss to McCree's jawline. “I am sure. But I can hardly help how irresistible you are, can I?”

Before he can retaliate, the rice cooker goes off and Hanzo leaves his side. He scoops the rice into two bowls and sets them on the table, then comes back to the stove to take the last few hotcakes out of the pan and stack them on a plate. This time he's the one yelping when McCree puts an arm around him and hugs him tightly to his side. “You're too good to me, honey.”

He lets go and turns back to the eggs in the pan. Hanzo finishes setting the table and laying out the food, and soon McCree is placing an egg over top of his rice. The cowboy sits down opposite him when he's done and the dirty pans and dishes are in the sink. He pours them each a glass of juice and raises his. Hanzo raises his, too.

“Cheers,” they say in unison. Cheers to waking up together, to making meals together, and to finally coming home.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this and are interested in seeing more or even just having a chat, feel free to contact and/or follow me on twitter [@tim3hopp3r](https://twitter.com/tim3hopp3r), my [personal tumblr](http://therealhousewivesofhyrule.tumblr.com/), or if you're just interested in my Overwatch stuff then at my [Overwatch sideblog](http://naptimefornaughtyrobots.tumblr.com/).
> 
> I also have a [writing blog](https://intim3ate.tumblr.com) where I post progress, WIPs, and take requests. Please check that out if you'd like to see more or to find out how to support me!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and supporting me. ♥


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